rose to her feet automatically when Jane finished her prayer, and followed her aunt as they set off once again with Jane in the lead, using her black umbrella as if she were a lancer at the head of a cavalry charge. Luckily it was not far to Russell Square and they arrived without any unwary passer-by sustaining a serious injury.
Jane marched up the steps to the front door and hammered on the knocker. Moments later a stern-faced butler answered the summons. He glared at Jane, eyebrows raised. ‘Might I be of assistance, madam?’
Jane tapped the ground with the ferule of her umbrella. ‘I wish to see Mrs Dearborn. Tell her that Mrs Jane Radcliffe is here with her niece, Alice Radcliffe. Mrs Dearborn is expecting me.’
‘I doubt if the mistress will be receiving this early in the morning, but if you’ll wait a moment, I’ll return.’ He shut the door without giving Jane the chance to step over the threshold.
She bridled visibly. ‘Such bad form. I’ll report him to Mrs Dearborn, you see if I don’t.’ She kept prodding the step with her umbrella, tapping her foot to the same beat until the door opened once again. ‘I should think so too.’ She stepped inside without waiting to be invited. ‘Come along, girl,’ she snapped, beckoning to Alice.
‘Mrs Dearborn is not ready to receive visitors.’ The butler took a step backwards, eyeing Jane’s umbrella nervously. ‘But the housekeeper, Mrs Upton, will see you in the morning room. This way, please.’
He stalked off across the highly polished floor, which was as slippery as a frozen pond. Jane trod carefully and Alice had to curb a sudden childish desire to run and slide. Boughs of holly intertwined with fronds of ivy were strung from the banisters on the galleried landing, and bowls of hothouse flowers provided splashes of bright colour against the wainscoted walls. The air was warm and redolent with their scent.
‘Mrs Upton will be with you shortly,’ the butler said as he ushered them into the morning room.
Jane walked over to the fireplace, holding her hands out to the blaze. ‘Such extravagance. No wonder the world is in a parlous state.’
Alice did not offer an opinion. She moved as close as she dared to the fire, revelling in the luxury of warmth, and her spirits rose as she looked round the comfortably furnished room. The walls were lined with framed watercolours of flowers, birds and country scenes, and the mantelshelf was cluttered with ornaments, spill vases and a large gilt clock with a garniture of candelabra supported by smiling cherubs. Her feet sank into the thick pile of the carpet and she was tempted to take a seat in one of the velvet-upholstered, button-back armchairs, but did not dare take liberties. Jane, as expected, was unimpressed. She sniffed. ‘Vulgar display. Ostentatious and decadent.’ She spun round as the door opened to admit a small woman, dressed in black bombazine with a chatelaine hanging round her waist from which dangled a large bunch of keys.
‘I was expecting to see Mrs Dearborn in person,’ Jane said haughtily.
‘At this hour of the day?’ Mrs Upton looked Jane up and down with barely concealed disdain. ‘I don’t know what sort of establishment you run, madam, but ladies don’t usually rise before ten o’clock at the earliest.’
Jane’s mouth opened and shut, reminding Alice of a goldfish she had once owned, but her aunt made a quick recovery, drawing herself up to her full height so that she towered over the housekeeper. ‘I was asked to bring my niece here at half-past seven.’
‘And she will be set to work immediately.’ Mrs Upton met Jane’s hard stare with narrowed eyes. ‘Mrs Dearborn will see her later in the day.’ She beckoned to Alice. ‘Come with me, girl. I’ll find you something more suitable to wear.’
Summarily dismissed, Jane clutched her umbrella to her flat bosom. ‘Well!’ The word exploded from her lips. ‘I’ll have words to say to your mistress when I see her next in church.’
Mrs Upton opened the door. ‘Good day to you, madam. Hoskins will see you out.’ She marched off, leaving Alice little alternative but to follow in her wake.
Glancing over her shoulder Alice caught a glimpse of the butler ushering Jane out of the house, and she could tell by the affronted twitch of her aunt’s shoulders that she was not very happy. Even so, Alice was puzzled. If she was supposed to be instructing a little girl in drawing and painting why was she here so early? And why did the housekeeper think it necessary to provide her with a change of clothes?
She caught up with Mrs Upton at the foot of the back stairs. ‘Excuse me, ma’am, but I don’t know exactly what is expected of me.’
Mrs Upton stopped to pick up an oil lamp and turned to faced her. ‘Are you simple or something, girl?’
Alice recoiled at the sharp tone of Mrs Upton’s voice and the scornful look on her plump face. ‘No, certainly not. I thought I was here to teach art to Mrs Dearborn’s daughter.’
‘That amongst other things.’ Mrs Upton marched down a long, dark passage. She opened a door at the far end and held the lamp high as she examined shelves piled with gowns, caps and aprons. ‘You’re not very big,’ she said, looking Alice up and down. ‘Try this on for size.’ She selected a black cotton garment.
‘I don’t understand.’ Alice stared at the uniform, shaking her head. ‘Surely what I have on is quite appropriate for a teacher or even a governess?’
‘This will suit you much better, believe me, it will.’ Mrs Upton thrust the gown into her hands. ‘Try it on for size.’
‘You want me to undress here?’ Alice looked round nervously.
‘Change your clothes in the cupboard if you’re shy. I haven’t got all day, girl.’
Alice hesitated, trying to decide whether to make a run for it and face Aunt Jane’s wrath, or to do as the housekeeper said and put on the uniform. She stepped into the cupboard and took off her grey merino gown, replacing it with the black cotton frock and a starched white apron.
‘Let me look at you.’ Mrs Upton held the candle higher in order to get a better view.
‘I want to know why I’m dressed like a servant.’
‘Because that’s what you are. Didn’t Mrs High-and-Mighty tell you?’
‘No, ma’am. She said I was to be a teacher.’
‘Personally speaking I wouldn’t take on someone without any previous experience or training, but because you come from a respectable home the mistress has decided to give you a chance.’
‘For what exactly?’ Alice demanded. ‘I’m dressed as a servant and I want to know why.’
Mrs Upton raised an eyebrow. ‘You’ll find out soon enough. Follow me.’
Alice was too shocked to argue. If Aunt Jane had told her that she was going into service it might have given her time to prepare, but this sudden turn of events had caught her unawares. She hurried after Mrs Upton, who took the stairs with the ease of a mountaineer. Clearly she was used to such exercise, but by the time they reached the third floor Alice was out of breath and her legs were aching. The somewhat gaudy décor had ended
